Small Victories
by Peggie
Summary: One man's molehill is another man's mountain to climb. A very personal story from an ex scribble talker


Small Victories

Dedicated to all the patients and Staff at the Royal Hallamshire Hospital Sheffield

Small Victories

By

Peggie

Bruce quietly knocked on the door of the ground floor suite of rooms. Getting no answer he silently opened the door and looked around it into the room. Over the last two months builders and decorators had converted the old servants hall and storerooms into a fairly substantial ground floor apartment. Comprising of a large sitting room, bedroom, kitchen and bathroom. The latter fitted out with every possible disabled living aid imaginable. French doors off the living room made it possible to enter a private walled garden and patio area. No expense had been spared to get this apartment ready for it's occupants. Bruce smiled at the mish mash of old furniture that turned the rooms into a home. Most of the furniture had come from Leslie's old apartment above the clinic. Other pieces had been brought down from Alfred's old room on the third floor. Although few pieces matched they fitted together well to give a friendly, homely feel.

Bruce smiled to see his old friend dozing by the fire a book open on his lap. Only five months ago after Alfred had sustained a serious head injury. Bruce had had to face the prospect that the old man was going to die. They had even turned his life support systems off in the knowledge that the he couldn't possible survive such devastating injuries. Yet he had! And through sheer stubbornness and hard work he was now starting to rebuild his life with help from his friends and loved ones.

Sat in the chair opposite was the most important of those people, Leslie Thompkins, she was stitching a patchwork quilt occasionally casting glances at the man in the chair.

Bruce had only just stepped into the room when the old man in the chair started and blinking in confusion looked around him. Leslie looked at Alfred concerned, then turned around to see Bruce.

"Hello dear, I didn't hear you come in." she said welcoming him with a smile.

The Alfred looked at Bruce, smiled then said something totally meaningless. His eyes looked puzzled when Bruce didn't answer so he repeated the question slowly as though talking to a rather dim child.

Bruce looked worried as he searched his friend's pale and drawn face. He glanced at Leslie, his fear for his friend's condition evident for them both to see.

Frowning old man looked at Leslie and made some further comment.

"Yes dear, you're talking scribble again!" she said smiling at him.

Alfred stopped closed his eyes and focused all his energy on just one task.

"Tired!" he said with evident disgust at himself.

"Well you have done rather more than you should have done. It is time for your afternoon nap." Leslie scolded lightly.

Alfred nodded, then addressed another unintelligible comment to a bewildered Bruce.

"Er, no problem Alfred, just came to see how you are and have a chat with Leslie about the clinic." Bruce said uncertain that the reply was the correct one.

Alfred nodded said something to Leslie that made her smile and punch him lightly on his good arm. "Bed, to rest!" she admonished.

The old couple exchanged a warm smile.

Leslie placed a walking frame in front of Alfred's chair. He frowned and looked at in disgust. Then glanced over at the two canes in the corner. Leslie shook her head. "When you're this tired the frame is safer she said sternly. 

Alfred sighed pointedly, then relented and smiled up at his partner.

Leslie walked away from him and stood in front of Bruce her back toward Alfred. "Well darling what did you want to talk about."

Bruce wasn't listening he was watching Alfred with concern. The old man had positioned his hands on the handgrips of the frame then rocked himself forward and up. He'd risen halfway then slumped back into the chair muttering to himself in annoyance. Bruce started forward to help his friend, only to be stopped by Leslie's iron grip around his wrist. Bruce glanced down at the woman. Her eyes were closed. As they both heard the old man try and fail again Bruce saw a look of pain shoot across Leslie's tired face. Her lips moved silently, Bruce could read the unspoken words, "Come on my love, you can do it."

Suddenly they heard a sigh of relief as the man stood up. Bruce glanced over at his friend and saw a look of sheer triumph on his features. He had the look that you see on the face of athletes who have just smashed a world record. 

Bruce had a slightly bewildered look on his face as her turned back towards Leslie.

"Small Victories Bruce, that's what makes life bearable for him, small victories." A tear ran down her face, "It's slow and so frustrating for him but he's still fighting, and winning." She whispered

They then heard the soft shuffling steps as Alfred progressed towards the bedroom.

"I'll come and give you a hand to get your shoes off in a couple of minutes!" Leslie called out.

Another unintelligible reply was forthcoming.

"Ok, if you're sure you'll manage? I'll be there in a few of minutes."

She smiled up towards Bruce, "The hardest part is not helping. It's also the kindest way to aid his recovery. But it is so hard to do."

Bruce hugged her gently "I came to discuss your resignation from the clinic. The trustees have asked me to try and get you to reconsider." Bruce said quietly.

Leslie smiled and shook her head. "Sorry Bruce, I've got more important things to do. Anyway, it's time someone younger took over the clinic. Diana Cooper would be my suggestion. She's got the right sort of drive and energy for the job. I am afraid my heart just isn't in it now."

Bruce glanced at the bedroom door. "If you're worried about Alfred, I'll get a nurse in full time. That's no problem."

"Oh yes it is Bruce. He doesn't require a nurse he just needs his friends. He needs us to put him, first for a change. He needs us to care for him, like he's always cared for us."

Bruce was gazing into her beautiful deep blue eyes they were full of tears. They could both hear frustrated muttering coming from the bedroom.

"When Alfred was brought into the clinic Bruce, and I saw how badly he was hurt, I just wanted to curl up and cry."

She wiped her tears with a crumpled tissue.

"I knew we would most probably lose him. I left Maggie looking after him while I arranged for his transfer to Metropolis City Hospital. When I got back in the room I heard Maggie talking to him. And what she said cut right into me."

Bruce knew Maggie well, a large, blunt, but warm-hearted woman. She had been Leslie's senior nurse at the clinic and also her friend for almost thirty-five years. He couldn't imagine that she would intentionally hurt Leslie.

"Do you know what she said Bruce? She told him he was one in a million. He'd always loved and cared for others, always put others first. And he'd never complained about always coming off second best in every relationship. Being ignored, being taken for granted by everyone he loved. By you and me Bruce, that's what she meant. How often have you or I put Alfred first?" Leslie asked sadly.

Bruce looked at Leslie shocked and confused.

"Bruce Alfred's been a brilliant father to you for thirty years. But he's always known he was just a substitute, a make do father."

Bruce looked down guiltily. Leslie lifted his chin until his eyes focused in to hers.

"Bruce that was natural, Alfred never expected more. But in other ways we've both been cruel. How often have you gone out injured, how often has Alfred begged you to stay home only to be ignored? How often has Batman's needs come before those of your closest friend. I am just as much to blame. I've always put the clinic first. Park Row's down and outs have always had more consideration than the man who's patiently sat and waited for me. How often has Alfred ended up helping at the clinic when we've supposed to be going out? How often have I phoned up with another excuse for missing our date? How often have I turned down his proposals because I didn't see marriage as important?"

"But he understood Leslie, he always understands," Bruce muttered. "Alfred just takes life as it comes. That's why he's so great."

"Does he Bruce?" Leslie asked angrily. "When Maggie realised I was there she got very annoyed with me. I said something along the same lines as you. Then she really lost her temper and told me some home truths. Do you know he cried when I turned him down. Maggie told me she saw him sat in the car crying. He was looking at the ring he'd bought and he was crying. God, Bruce, I hate myself for doing that to him."

Bruce found he was also close to tears at the thought. 

"How often has he done that in his life? How often has he sat alone cried because we'd hurt him, we hadn't return his love. Because we treated him as second class, as though his feelings didn't matter. I nearly didn't get the chance to put it right Bruce, I nearly lost him, before I could make it up to him. Now I've got him back he's my only concern, he comes first from now on. And if he ever asks again his feet won't touch the ground, as I get him to the altar before he can change his mind." 

She smiled a watery smile. Bruce hugged her to him. Suddenly a shout from the bedroom had them both running towards the door worried. Both of them crashed into the room only to see their friend sat on the bed holding a pair of shoes up in triumph, a large smile plastered across his face. Leslie grinned and went up to hug him.

"Well done love, I am so proud of you." She told him.

"Another small victory." Bruce muttered smiling at his two friends.


End file.
